


Respite

by Purseplayer



Series: Quick [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hybrids, M/M, fox!Kurt, wolf!Blaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:33:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1561541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purseplayer/pseuds/Purseplayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After mating, Kurt and Blaine search for a place where they belong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Respite

**Author's Note:**

> Those of you who were with me in December might remember a little hybrid/mating drabble I wrote for the Klaine advent challenge. A few people asked me to continue, so here is the next installment of what will likely be four or five parts in total. Warning for brief homophobic slurs.

_Dear Rachel,_

_I know you must be worried sick after I didn’t come home last night.  Please, put your mind at ease.  Something has happened but it’s… good, I think.  Please tell my father and Carole and Finn that I am safe, and happy, and… I’ve had to go away, Rachel, maybe forever.  Please accept that it was necessary and know I love you all dearly.  I hope I do see you again by some turn of fate._

_Wishing you all the best,_

_Kurt_

Kurt wrapped himself more snugly in the soft bearskin, staring vacantly at the crackling fire.  He was thinking of them again—his family, and all he had sacrificed; the note he had left like a thief in the night that wasn’t enough.  And of course, as always, he was wondering when Blaine would return to him.

The door of the cabin creaked as it opened—just a crack, enough for a slender man to squeeze through—and Blaine shook off the snow in his hair, stripped out of his damp clothing and crawled, shivering, under the blankets to huddle close to his mate.  Kurt’s muscles contracted at the cold press of bare skin against his, but he wrapped his arms around Blaine regardless.  Blaine pressed a kiss to his shoulder.  “Hello,” he whispered in greeting.

Kurt’s eyes watched Blaine’s lips, pink against his pale skin.  “Hi,” he breathed.

Blaine burrowed his face into the crook of Kurt’s arm.  “I spoke to my dad.”

“Oh?  And?” Kurt slowly ran his fingers through Blaine’s dark, damp curls, willing the nervous anticipation squirming in his stomach to settle. 

For a long time there was silence.  Then, “He’ll see you.”

“That’s good, right?” Kurt said, perking up.

Blaine shook his head and sighed, then turned his face to kiss across Kurt’s bare chest, down his stomach to nuzzle into the sparse strip of hair there.  “Don’t wanna think about it,” he muttered.  “Just want you.”

Before Kurt could process what was happening, Blaine had moved lower to swallow his half-erect cock.  Kurt whined, arching up helplessly, his fingers tightening in Blaine’s hair.

This was his life now, his body so attuned to Blaine’s that Kurt craved him nearly every second.  Their coupling was always wild, passionate, _addictive_ —and frequent.

Blaine’s fingers traveled his inner thigh, dipped between his legs to brush against his hole as Kurt’s cock began to fill in his mate’s mouth.  “ _Blaine_ ,” Kurt cried, fucking up into the now familiar heat.  Blaine’s finger breached him as his hips fell again, just the tip, dry and burning and perfect, but after a moment it was gone, and Kurt moaned in frustration as Blaine’s head lifted from him.

“Here,” Blaine muttered, impatient, two fingers poking at Kurt’s lips.  He opened obediently, sucking them in and twirling his tongue around them until Blaine groaned at the tease.  “Fuck my mouth,” he muttered, engulfing Kurt’s cock once again, withdrawing his fingers and thrusting them all at once into Kurt’s ass.

“Burns,” Kurt said—the slide was easier, but the stretch was painful, perfect, and he spared not another word as he gripped Blaine’s curls tight and began to thrust hard and fast into the hot, wet channel of his mate’s mouth, his cockhead teasing down Blaine’s throat.  But Blaine knew this game, and the occasional squeeze of his choke made it all the better.  He was already close, so close, drowning in desire that had spiked so quickly he could barely conceive of it.  Kurt fingers tightened as Blaine’s crooked just right— _yes_ , _there, there!_ —and with a near-scream he was coming, Blaine swallowing around him with practiced ease, pulling back slowly as he licked circle’s around Kurt’s shaft and then teased at the head until Kurt finally withdrew, his hands falling to Blaine’s shoulders, Blaine licking the last of Kurt’s essence from his lips like the most delicious honeyed mead.

“Do you want to—” Kurt said, his breath a slowing pant, but Blaine was already trailing lips and tongue across the crook of his neck, sniffing there and then taking an arm, tugging until Kurt understood and rolled over, Blaine settling on top of him with his thick cock wedged between the cheeks of Kurt’s ass. 

Within seconds he began to move, long, heavy drags of his cock while he huffed wet breaths at Kurt’s nape, planting tiny kisses on his skin until, gradually, his movements sped.  He found Kurt’s wrists, tugged them above his head and held them there, bit down as he came, and Kurt whined contentedly at the warm spread of come across the small of his lower back.  Blaine stayed there for a long while, pressing Kurt into the mattress, then slowly rolled to the side, leaving one arm draped across his mate’s torso and absentmindedly tracing through the mess he’d made.

Kurt sighed and moved to face him, kissed him soundly and then all over his face before curling up next to him, their legs tangled and heads tilted together.  “Please,” he said softly.  “Please, Blaine: talk to me about it.”

For several moments Blaine was silent, then, “My dad’s not going to like you, Kurt.  It’s no use.  He’ll never accept you here.”

Kurt’s face fell.  “But you said—you said he agreed to meet me.”

Blaine’s hand shifted, smoothed over the soft jut of Kurt’s hip.  “He has.  But it doesn’t—“ he paused, sighing himself, then continued, “It doesn’t mean what you think.”

“You can’t know that,” Kurt tried to reason.  “You can’t know that he’ll reject me, Blaine, not yet!”

Blaine whined softly, hid his face in the dip of Kurt’s shoulder.  “You don’t know him, Kurt.  He’s always rejected everything that has anything to do with me.”

Kurt didn’t know what to say to that, so he wriggled impossibly closer, pulled the bearskin over their naked bodies and huddled into the warmth of his mate, hoping to content them both with just this moment, Sherwood Anderson be damned.

*******

It was the largest cabin of the lot, but once inside Kurt was surprised to find that the entire enclosure consisted of only one large room, sparsely furnished with a lavish bed, a wooden table and a few chairs, some cabinets, and the large, plush couch on which Blaine’s father lounged, set before a crackling fire with two wolves sitting on their flanks at his feet.

“Father,” Blaine said in acknowledgement, dragging Kurt forward into the blade that was the Chief’s eyes: piercing, cold, the color of Blaine’s but cruel and empty where his mate’s were warm and alive.

The eyes looked him up and down, and Kurt shivered, wishing desperately that he was dressed in his usual manner rather than in the simple expanse of slick, bleak wool that Blaine had insisted was customary.

“This is him, then… the bitch you mated?”

“Father—“

“What did you say he was?”  The eyes narrowed, studying him, quickly pronouncing, “Fox.”  Like it was a curse.  Like it was a foul, dirty taste in his mouth.  Kurt felt his eyes begin to narrow in return.

“He’s… he’s not a… you know we have no choice, Father.  Fate chooses our mate.”  Blaine’s hand tightened in his, and he glanced at Kurt, so quickly Kurt barely caught his eye.  “But even if it didn’t, I would have chosen him anyway.  Kurt is exceptional, Father.  For any species.”

The Chief sighed, waving his hand dismissively.  “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected any better from a runt, should I?  Weakling, faggot—“

To Kurt’s surprise, Blaine brightened.  “So he can stay then?  I can keep him?”

“Of course not!” His father said immediately.  “He goes, or you both go; it doesn’t much matter to me.”

“But Father, I’m—“

“My only son?  Perhaps one of your sisters will make a better man than you.  At least they know better than to breed with mongrels.”

“Father—“

“How dare you!” Kurt shouted, no longer able to hold back.

The Chief’s eyes had long forgotten him, but they quickly returned, sharp as ever.  _Evil_ , Kurt thought.  “Your mutt doesn’t even know her manners, Blaine!”

“Excuse me, _sir_ , but I believe that you’re the one who lacks manners in present company!” 

“Kurt…” Blaine said.

“No, Blaine.  He’s not going to listen anyway.  He is your son!  Your heir!  Say what you like about me, but he has never spoken a word against you, has been nothing but respectful, and yet you treat him like trash!  When Blaine and I mated I thought the rumors about wolves must not be true, but you’ve proven the reputation.  You are everything my father warned me about, and I would rather die of starvation and rot in the forest than stay another night under your rule!”

“ _Kurt_ ,” Blaine said again—this time both fear and pride in his voice.

Kurt turned to him, tears of anger and sorrow and disbelief leaking from his eyes.  “I won’t leave you here either, Blaine.  Not with _that_.  I’m sorry.”

Blaine looked to his father.

“I want you gone,” he stated plainly, unfazed.

Blaine lifted his chin.  “You needn’t ask.  Goodbye, Father.”

But the Chief was already otherwise engaged—fawning over the wolves at his feet—and did not acknowledge his son, until finally, resigned, Kurt tugged him toward the door.

*******

That night they slept on the frozen ground, shivering and huddled together under the stolen bearskin, sharing a few meager bites of dried berries and jerky.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said for the millionth time, head pillowed on Blaine’s shoulder.  “Maybe if I hadn’t lost my temper…“

“You were perfect.” Blaine hadn’t spoken since they left, meeting his apologies only with reassuring kisses.  “Spectacular even, and so, so brave.  I’ve never… I’ve never been able to stand up to him; not like that.”  He kissed Kurt’s brow, squeezing him closer.  “Thank you.”

“What will we do now?  I know we still have a little money, but there’s nothing around for days, and winter for at least another few weeks.  I shouldn’t have pushed you to have him meet me.  We could have at least staked out in the village for a bit longer, maybe till Spring.”

“We’ll be alright.  We’ll make it.  I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Kurt.”

Kurt smiled up at him.  “And I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“We’re better together,” Blaine said.  “It’s better this way.  We can make our own pack!”

“Or… or we could try my family,” Kurt said, wincing as Blaine’s body tensed predictably beneath him. 

“They hate wolves.”

“And your father hated foxes.  My dad at least loves me, Blaine.”  He bit his lip after he said it, immediately regretful.  “I’m sorry.  That was out of line.”

“No.”  Blaine said.  “No, you’re right.”

“Can we at least try?  Please?  I… I have hope.  And it’s somewhere to go, if we can get there.”

For a long moment, Blaine was silent.  “We can try,” he eventually agreed.  “I’d do anything for you.”

“It’ll be good.  You’ll see.”  Kurt reached up to kiss him, sweet and chaste.  “And if it’s not, you’ll still have me.”

Kurt closed his eyes to sleep but felt Blaine’s hand, gentle on his shoulder.  “We should transform, I think.  We’ll be warmer.”

Kurt’s heart sparked at the thought.  “It hadn’t even occurred to me… it’s been so long since it was safe.”

“I know,” Blaine said, nuzzling under his ear.  “I’m sorry.”

Kurt closed his eyes and focused, letting the fox slowly take him over.  It felt like coming home, like sinking into the warmth of a mother’s embrace.  Moments later he felt Blaine’s flank curling around his own, his snout fitting with a huff into the crook of Kurt’s neck.  They soaked up the warmth between them, tried to shut out the chill, and blessedly: they slept.


End file.
